Thank you for joining me on this journey. It's never been easy, and I don't ever expect it to be. There may be times when you don't agree with me, and that's OK. Never be afraid to share your feelings with me, that's what I'm here for and what has kept me going. I'm not a licensed professional, but I have more than 20 years experience with mental illness.
You can find our podcast, Voices for Change 2.0 at
www.blogtalkradio.com/leftofstr8

Wednesday, April 5, 2017

Agoraphobia
is a condition that I suffer from, but I
don’t speak about it very often. I think because it’s difficult to explain. At
times, it can be nearly impossible to separate Agoraphobia from Social Anxiety.
I wanted to look into it and determine whether I was confusing the two
conditions and whether it was possible to suffer from both.

Agoraphobia
is defined as a fear of leaving your
home. Many people with Agoraphobia are house-bound, even room-bound. Truth be told, there are days when I don’t leave
our bedroom. Agoraphobia refers to the fear of being in situations or places
from which escape would be difficult in the event of a panic attack. We often
fear crowds, cars, and even elevators. For me, it has become such a nuisance
that I even fear just going to the mailbox in front of our house. If I spend
too much time in an elevator, I begin to panic. I start feeling like I can’t
breathe.

Both
Agoraphobia and Social Anxiety are often referred
to as a fear of public places, people with Social Anxiety most often fear
places where public scrutiny can occur.
The more articles I read, the more it all began to make sense. One article even
mentioned that Agoraphobics could feel
better with a trusted companion when they’re in public. I find this true for me
but only with my husband. It’s not often that you suffer from both conditions,
but when it does happen, it’s in women.

I
can’t even count how many events or appointments I have missed due to one or
both of these conditions. Add to that issues with your weight and self-esteem, and it’s a nightmare. I am constantly dissecting every single flaw that I
have, and because I am so critical, I
expect that everyone else will be too. All I see when I look in the mirror is
an overweight mess. In the last few months, I’ve even avoided having anyone
come to our house because of how terrible I think I look. It’s a horrible
feeling to be terrified in your own home.

It’s been more than a year since I drove myself
anywhere. I was recently gifted a vehicle, and I still haven’t driven it. We let
it sit for three weeks, and when we went
to start it, the battery was dead. I saw that as just another sign. My husband
takes it on little trips to the store now so that we don’t have that problem
again, but what can I do about my dead battery? I’ve
isolated myself for so long, rarely leaving the house. I don’t know how
to fix this. Sitting here right now, I can’t remember the last time I went
anywhere. I keep telling myself that the more I avoid any attempt at getting
out, the harder it will be to do it once I
have something important that I must do.

I’ve been struggling for months, just barely holding myself together.
I hide
behind sarcasm because I don’t want anyone to see the real truth. I feel a
sense of responsibility to the people that have seen my posts on social media
or read my book. I’ve told everyone for so long that they can lead a full and
happy life despite mental illness, that I’ve forgotten to practice what I
preach. At this point, I’m merely existing,
not living.

I
need to make a change, and I need to do
it quickly. I turned 44 last month. It’s time to put my big girl pants on and
get back in the game. If it means some kind of
therapy, perhaps I just have to accept that. As much as I hate the idea, maybe
it would be the best thing for me. I’m stuck, that’s for sure, and the old me
didn’t leave any bread crumbs leading
back to who I once was.

So,
here I am having to contend with not just
your run of the mill depression and anxiety, but agoraphobia and social anxiety
coupled with a deep seeded hatred of my
appearance and very low self-esteem. It almost feels too heavy to ever come out
from underneath. My brain tells me that it’s just too much, I can’t do it. My
heart tells me that in 20 years I’m going to look back and wish I had done more
while I could. I can’t live with that kind of regret;
I already carry so much as it is.

I
feel like I’m finally at the point where I can make a declaration. I am finally
going to start living my life again. I’ll keep working with my doctor to find a
depression medication that works, but in the meantime,
I’ll be working on myself. Maybe I’ll do online therapy, just until I’m ready to get back in the saddle. Every day, my mantra
will be “just
do a little more today than
you did yesterday.”

If
you’re struggling with similar issues, reach out to me! Maybe we can help push
each other to make positive changes. It just takes a moment in time to change
your life. You just have to be prepared to accept whatever those changes may
bring. I think I’m ready. Are you?

Monday, April 3, 2017

Falling in love is scary. I think we can all
agree that, no matter how old we are, giving our heart to somebody can be
frightening. We’re unsure if it’ll work out or if your love and trust will be
betrayed by the very person you’re freely giving it to but, despite this
minefield of ‘what ifs’, we pursue what our heart thinks is right.

When people say ‘you’re crazy – it’ll never work
out’ or ‘you’ll only get hurt’: do we listen? Of course, not. Why? Because any
glimmer of hope is enough for us to cling onto with dear life and commit to. We
want to make it work – even with the odds against us – we understand that love
could be forever.

We understand that love… True love, is rare and,
to couple this with anxiety, it can:

MAKE YOU PAY ATTENTION TO EVERY SINGLE, LITTLE
DETAIL.

Overthinking is our thing. We worry, we stress,
we over exert ourselves to please somebody else: to put somebody else’s
happiness before our own. We spend so much time pre-empting what may happen:
instead of enjoying or reacting to what’s happening right now.

A slight change in the number of kisses you
receive in a text could trigger a string of ‘is everything okay?’ replies. We
believe that one less ‘x’ at the end of a message could suggest that something
is changing but, the reality is, the kisses you don’t receive over the phone,
are compensated for when you’re together.

We spend our time analysing changes in facial expressions
and tone of voice that we often forget to enjoy the moments of pure, raw
emotion. We overlook the greater picture and instead focus on the pieces needed
to create the perfect masterpiece: even if those pieces aren’t missing in the
first place.

Being in love is hard but, being in love when you
have anxiety, is so much harder.

WE FORGET THAT OTHER PEOPLE HAVE BAD DAYS, TOO.

I’m guilty for this and I wish I could change it.
I believe that because I’m dealing with my own mental battles daily that I’m the
only person that matters: like I expect people to grant me a ‘free pass’ for
being a dick because I’m having a bad day.

But, when you’re in a relationship, this just
doesn’t fly. You simply cannot trample over somebody else’s feelings and
believe they will continue to accept this forever.

The brutally ironic part is: I already overthink
everything so I kind of know I’m breaking the very heart I crave and adore but,
I can’t do anything about it. Sometimes I feel like I’m holding my head
underwater – my lungs are burning; my body takes over and tries to save me but
my beautifully destructive mind would prefer to see me drown than to let my
body do its fucking job.

The heart simply cannot defeat the brain if you
continue to feed it’s (your) self-obsession. You must understand that, as a
partner or as a best friend, you need to learn to let go of the very thing
which will eventually kill you.

FUCK THIS, I GIVE UP.

Considering how powerful and persuasive my mind
is, on its own terms, it is seemingly very fragile and non-responsive when I
really need that extra push to get through a difficult time in my relationship.

‘Oh, you had a bad argument about pretty much
nothing? Here, let me just go to sleep whilst you deal with that.’ Says my
brain, always. Fucking… always.

It sucks and it hurts, not just me, but the
person who I would give my life to… No, scratch that: it hurts the person who I
want to give my life to. I just don’t know how.

I’d much rather walk away from a relationship
than to see myself suffer any longer than I already do. Having an argument is
like feeding time in a lion den when you have anxiety. Even if the person
opposite you is screaming out ‘I don’t want to lose you, I want you to stay’ –
your mind hears ‘Get out, leave whilst you can, if I can hurt you now – don’t
give me the chance to do it again’.

It’s an exhausting game of tug-of-war between my
heart and mind. I’m scared that both will become weak and they won’t work
again.

BEING UNCERTAIN MAKES ME ANGRY.

You’ll know (or maybe you don’t) but people who
suffer with anxiety have this feeling of eternal impending doom looming over
their heads 90% of the time. It’s like constantly walking on a tight-rope from
a skyscraper, with no harness on a very windy day.

So, if you feel as if somebody is falling out of
love with you, even if they aren’t, you fall into this state of ‘I need
constant reassurance that everything is going to be fine…’ and, if this isn’t
given to you in a way which you see suitable, your fear of the future can
manifest itself into quite the unpredictable temper.

I feel angry because I can’t feel what they feel,
I can’t see the good which they see… I’m more scared of them not loving me
anymore than I am of anything else.

I’m like that spider your parents try to tell you
about ‘He’s more scared of you, than you are of it’. When I’m in love with
somebody, that’s how I feel. I’m terrified of them breaking my heart and
leaving me in the unstable, incapable mess in which they found me and, because
of that, my body’s defense mechanism is to use anger as a substitute for seeing
truth.

That’s what my mind thinks and, unfortunately,
I’m strapped in to this ride forever. There’s no getting off, there’s no
‘please slow down’: it’s a swell of different emotions that I’m involuntarily
throwing myself into to see if I’ll drown or whether I’ll come back up for air.

Because, well, I want to be in love with somebody
and, despite the countless reasons why somebody could not love me, I want to
feel like I can be loved, too.

I don’t want to feel lost in my own thoughts – I
want to share them with somebody and for them to just understand. That’s all I
want. I don’t need pity or to be made to feel different: all I want to feel is
loved and understood. I suppose that’s paramount in any normal relationship.

It’s just, if you fall in love with me, you don’t
get ‘normal’ and that’s what scares me. I hope weird is enough for you…
Because, with you, the feeling of love is all I need to get better.

The road to recovery takes time and I have plenty
of it. I hope that you can take the time to get to know me and realize that, my
illness does not define how I truly feel.

I’ll be honest with you and I’ll love you more
than anybody else dares to… if you give me the chance.

About Me

I have been happily married to the man of my dreams for 15 years. We have 5 cats that we adore, and a little house that we are renovating. I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder at 19. It has been a constant struggle in my life, and has caused a great deal of turmoil.

Despite my illness, my husband has stayed by my side and I have learned to grow from my challenges. I am now a published author and my book is available on Amazon!